


Regrets in the Palm of My Hand

by SaltiSnacks



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A Little Repetitive, Anal Fingering, Atlas on a Mission, Come Eating, Cussing, Finger Sucking, Flashbacks, Hand Jobs, Keith Has Shiro's Arm, Keith Unknowingly Causes Shiro to Cheat, Keith's wolf is a good boy, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Regret, Sexual Content, Shiro (Voltron) is So Done, Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess, Shiro cries, This Bounces around a Little, Touching, Voltron: Legendary Defender Season/Series 08 Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 19:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17689640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltiSnacks/pseuds/SaltiSnacks
Summary: Shiro's prosthetic goes missing. It reveals something he didn't know, sending his entire life into turmoil.





	Regrets in the Palm of My Hand

**Author's Note:**

> *I don't own VLD. I also don't own The Addams' Family.
> 
> **This isn't the kinkiest thing I've written recently, but it's up there.
> 
> ***I haven't read everything here. If this is similar to any other story, it is completely unintentional.
> 
> ****I'm not entirely happy with how this came out, but oh well. It is what it is.

This was _wrong_ on so many levels, yet he couldn’t stop himself.

He was married. He was supposed to be in love with his husband of three months. The truth now beat at him like a mallet on a steel drum as shivers reverberated through his body. This added to the ever-growing list of misdeeds and regrets.

He already regretted his impromptu retirement at the begging of his then fiancé.

_“If we're getting married, I want you home. I never wanted the stars. I was ordered onto the Atlas. Stay here with me.”_

_“But…I'm the only one that can fly her.”_

_“They’ll find a new captain eventually.”_

_He snorted. “I doubt that.”_

_“Haven't you had enough? You have a life now. An extended life. Enjoy it.”_

_“But…”_

_“Stay with me.”_

Until this fateful encounter while negotiating with a nearby refugee colony for the coalition as a favor. The colonists had demanded meeting the paladins and Shiro.

Launching back into space had sent joy through his soul. Atlas had sang in his head mournfully, as she was grounded while he was able to leave. His own loss beat back at her.

Another mistake. He never should have agreed to this. The tiller felt wonderful and familiar under his hand. He had missed this more than he had realized. The stars were back in his soul as they zipped passed him in the coalition ship. There was no escaping them again. He was meant to be out _here_ not grounded on Earth. He knew that now.

He had stayed at home on Earth. That decision would be rued, but that wouldn’t be _his_ mistake to accept in the end. He was already mentally filling out the digital forms he would need to be reinstated. However was he going to explain his _need_ for this? Adam hadn't understood and he suspected neither would his husband.

He realized he was nervous after he landed at the new colony. Sweat was forming under his collar and between his shoulder blades. Facing another giant mistake was going to be painful in the worst way.

He was the second to last one to arrive. Pidge had completely ignored him while the others had just barely waved at him. Their anger, disappointment, and disapproval at his spur of the moment marriage still very apparent. Because of their behavior, he had shoved them further away, knowing he had already started doing so before the war was even over.

He felt light touches along his wrist.

More regrets poured forth in his mind. All the missed chances that could have changed _everything._ Time that could have been different, but now lost to the past.

He thought he was doing the right thing at the time. Everything had still been beating at his skull. His traumas. The battles. His _death._ Having his consciousness in Black only to be returned to a disease-free clone.

Having two sets of memories, one sending him into terrible nightmares as his weaponized hand had driven through a beloved face that had only smiled at him as the life faded from his eyes.

Yes, he knew that hadn't been _him,_ but he didn't even know if _he_ was the real Takahashi Shirogane. What if who _he_ was had also originally been a clone released by Haggar? What if somewhere out there the _real_ Takahashi Shirogane still existed? He could just be another carbon copy.

He knew he should have talked to someone. One in particular who almost knew him better than himself. The one who could have set him straight. Always saving him as many time _as it takes_. But, he hadn't wanted to add his issues on top of a war.

Instead, he had changed gears. He had needed to focus. To be the captain of the Atlas with lives at stake under his command. He couldn't show favoritism to the paladins.

He never meant to sever their friendship. Their found family. He realized now they would have stood by him for everything and supported him through it _all._ Except for one – his marriage.

Now he knew why and his soul was being torn back into a direction he had tried to squash and avoid. Denying what was there, what _should have been_ , another mistake. They had known all along while he had not. Where he should have stayed _all along_. At _his_ side.

The new Blade uniform had clung to that toned body like a second skin, showing every dip and curve of sinew and muscle. The braid curled over a shoulder he knew still bore the weight of a war-torn universe. Only growing more and more stunning as time passed.

Which had led to a flush as soon as his name was mentioned. His husband had glared at him when he finally video called to let him know he had arrived safely. The argument that followed had been loud and painful. It only grew worse when he mentioned his thoughts of returning to duty.

He had demanded he return to Earth _this_ instant with a, “Screw the coalition.” The man he thought he knew was slowly changing into a complete stranger. Had he ever really known him at _all?_

He had knocked the small whisper in his head back into the silence when he had unexpectedly proposed. Another mistake. He should have listened to that small accusatory voice.

_“Look at what he did for you. That “I love you" could mean more. Why are you doing this? You promised to never give up on him, and look at what you’re doing now. This isn't right. Say no. Say no, dammit!”_

His emotions doubling until he felt like he would burst from them. A yearning. He wondered now if that had been a lingering remnant of Kuron in his head.

The Holts had been right. Only six months of dating and he had jumped into a marriage because it seemed like the next step to take in life. He had been on his adventure so it was time to settle down.

_“I’m getting married.” His smile had been wide as he showed the ring on his finger._

_The casserole dish full of macaroni and cheese had crashed to the floor as Coleen Holt gasped in shock. “Oh, Shiro, no.”_

_Sam had spit his tea, splattering a stunned silent Pidge. “Say what now? Why?”_

_“You… You moron!” Matt threw an unexpected punch, knocking him back into the counter. “You disaster! Are you blind?! You can't. He's not the one for you, you dumbass! Think this through!”_

He had run from the house and floored it back home, stunned by their response as his jaw continued to throb. The invitations to dinner had stopped, but he hadn’t questioned it at the time because he had been too busy with wedding plans.

Another mistake. He should have asked them _why_ they objected. Instead he seperated himself from the people that had accepted him and saw him as a family member. Had _fought_ for him to join them on the Kerberos mission.

He had so many regrets in his palm. This was all _wrong._ He had made horrible mistakes. Missed the obvious.

Lost his _best_ friend to his brief insanity. Everything had stopped on the day of his wedding after he had disappeared from the venue. The others had left shortly after with barely a word. Their feigned happiness for him deflated into nothing. No matter how many times he called or messaged, nothing was returned from any of them.

In thinking he was gaining a new life, he had _lost_ the one he had already _found._

It could have been so much _more_ if he had just paid _attention._ Faced his fear of spilling his real feelings and losing their friendship. In the end, he ended up losing him _anyway._ And, the loss had been shocking.

For three days into his honeymoon he had tried to contact him. But no response. He had lost it and burst into tears _begging_ him to answer. Screamed at his holopad for anything as he held it so tight he could hear it squeal in stress, close to breaking.

That had led to one of their first big arguments, and they had been married less than 72 Earth hours.

He slept in the adjoining lounge that night, his dreams haunting him of another possibility if he had just taken a _chance._ Of an objection and confession that had ground the wedding to a halt.

A new groom taking the spot in the wedding pictures instead of hiding his face or behind his back.

“Now I know why he stays away me. Why he avoided the photos. Quiznak, Matt was right. I was blind. I’ve hurt him so much. Why? Why didn't I think? I’ve ruined it. I was _all_ wrong. He did feel the same way about me. I’m so _stupid.”_ He wiped at his tears with his left hand before glaring at the damning ring on his finger. Out of spite, he pulled it off with his teeth before chucking it across the room, landing he didn't care where.

The space wolf suddenly showing up in his assigned room had been unexpected and startling. He hadn’t seen him since just after the war. He was _huge._ Whining and jumping, he had sought pets and scratches. Only to grab ahold of his prosthetic and disappear in a poof of burnt ozone.

The gentle teeth felt weird around his wrist until it was placed on a soft surface. He had no idea where it was taken to call it back. He didn't want to risk any offense or breaking anything. He would have to wait until someone or the wolf returned it to him.

Or so he had thought.

A sob ripped from his throat as the light exploratory touches continued. At first he had been confused until he focused. His jaw dropped as he realized what it was. He knew who exactly had his arm. “TS+KK." Their initials. Then hearts in the center of his palm sent a message that was only now being received.

The sensation disappeared when his fingers jerked. He fought himself to keep them still.

Everything he thought he knew as truths crashed and burned at his feet. This brought things into a new perspective. What had he given up by being silent? Hiding the truth from himself. From _him._

He didn’t know Coran and the Alteans had recently worked on the arm to improve its sense of touch and temperature. For two weeks barely brushing _anything_ with it had sent overwhelming feedback into his brain.

He had never really gotten to look at his arm. The chance never came up, so his curiosity showed as he felt his arm moved between two hands – turned it this way and that. When they did talk about it once, the feelings had still been vague at best. He didn’t know every touch was now perfectly transmitted despite being three rooms away.

His tears grew worse as he felt his fingers curled over a familiar shoulder. One he hadn't touched in what seemed like forever. He fought himself not to give the customary squeeze that would give him away. A well known nose and forehead nuzzled into his palm, and he desperately wanted to feel that cheek under his thumb.

He jerked and released a small whine of shock as he felt his fingers sink in moist warmth. The gentle laves of a nimble tongue. Making him choke on his own spit as he felt the back of his throat with his fingertips.

He knew this was wrong, but he couldn't stop. He should call his arm back. He was supposed to be happily married. A man was waiting for him back on Earth. But, now that he knew, it was all flooding back and demanding its due.

Drowning him as licks and gentle sucks continued around each metal finger. His thumb against the roof of his mouth. The lingering kisses into the center of his palm and on his knuckles.

The shudder through his body as he felt his palm stroke down an unseen chest and across washboard abs. Smooth toned thighs he wanted to tightly grip. His body heat felt through microscopic wires and the crystal.

Exploring when he never thought he would ever get to in the most bizarre way possible. It may be wrong, but it felt _right._

So right he was panting into his silent room. That small voice was screaming “Finally!” in the back of his head as his fingers were curled around something unmistakably hard, hot, and slick with wetness.

His head slammed back into his pillow with an, “Oh fuck.” as his hand was moved _for_ him with one hand around his fist and the other on his wrist. Picking up its pace slowly until the movements were strong and sure.

He wanted to _be_ there. To see that face as it approached his limit. Hear the sounds that were being denied by thick walls between them. Taste what his fingers already _knew._

His left hand found its way into his waistband, gripping himself and matching the pace of his other hand. “Fuck.” He hadn't been this aroused since before Kerberos, and the clone since seeing Keith those long months ago before fleeing to his room to relieve himself.

Well, that was saying something about his husband. He shoved  _that_ thought away.

The sudden sensation of splashing liquid on his arm electrified him, sending him tumbling over the brink he didn’t even know he was teetering over as he felt his fingers grow wetter and slightly sticky. His groan echoed in the sparsely furnished room as his hips stuttered against the still cool sheets beneath him, marking his own abs with his release.

He wanted to _taste_ what his hand had caused. Leaving him gasping for breath and salivating as he came down from the high of orgasm. As he felt that mouth return to his fingers to _clean_ them, his brain screeched to a halt.

With stunning clarity, he was _done._ So done he was already mentally sending a plea of “ _Please, delete it_.” across space that was quickly answered by an eager partner in crime before his thoughts caught up with themselves.

_“Find it and delete it. All if it. Every trace that it ever existed. Every document. Every photo. Every bit of data you can find. Erase it for me. Please. It's all digital. I know you can do it. Erase my farce of a marriage for me. Change his name back. Take him off all of my accounts. Make sure it can't be retraced by even Katie or Hunk. By anyone. File an eviction notice for me, too. Use my signature where you need to, my bright girl. Set me free to fly with you again.”_

The mental happiness he received made him smile, and he knew her hunt was starting as musical laughter-like sounds toned in his head.

“ _There's my girl. Thank you_.”

Cool liquid startled him. He felt the gel being spread across his fingers _._

_He's not… Quiznak!_

_Tight! Holy shit! Oh crap._

He gave in and began a path leading to either salvation or damnation as a mental image took shape in his mind. He removed his finger and felt his entire arm vibrate in what he guessed was a startle as he slid a second slicked metal finger in beside the other.

Fingers clawed at his hand as he continued his exploration. He stopped, still buried inside. Two rapid blows beat on his arm. He sent two signals back in the form of two fast strokes across a sensitive gland. He felt the clenching and could only imagine the sound.

The truth revealed that he could feel _everything._  That he knew what he was _doing_ with his wayward arm.

The bright blush must be forming. Other emotions cascading across that face. He waited, fingers just shy of where he knew they were wanted.

His conscience was beating at him, but the other voice was louder. He knew he was yet again throwing something away, but in return he was  _regaining_ it _all._ This should have been _his,_ but he had been too blinded by his fears to see it was given back to him.

Carefully removing his fingers, he mentally reached upward and traced a shape in return on shivering ab muscles. He motioned like he was writing, hoping he got the idea of what he wanted.

He felt him shift out from under his arm, and he perched on his fingers. He always chuckled as he thought about Thing from the age-old classic “The Addams' Family.”

He felt something tap against his wrist and a holopad slid under his fingers. Letting his arm float, he grabbed blindly for the digital pen until it was pushed into his hand. This was going to be sloppy because he couldn't see, but he was determined.

_Keith, I_

He paused in writing trying to think what he wanted to say. How he wanted to say it.

_I‘m sorry. So sorry. I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me I took that I love you all wrong? You called me your brother, so_

Another pause.

_I lost my hope and myself along with it. I made a mistake. We were both blind and too scared to ruin us and what we were._

_Please, can I come talk with you? Work this out? I already have enough regrets, but I don’t want losing you to be one of them_.

He bumped the bottom of the screen, but he felt Keith's fingers resetting his hand at the top after erasing what was already there.

_Atlas, as I write this, is erasing everything. All evidence of my marriage in the digital dumpster._

He felt the bed jerk under the holopad, making his arm lurch upward.

_Wait! You’re panicking now. I know you are. Just read. Please. Tap my arm if you’re still with me._

He waited. He knew Keith was blaming himself. Thinking himself a homewrecker, when he wasn't in the slightest.

_Please, Keith._

He felt the bed dip again. After a few seconds, he felt the tap and his hand reset again.

_It was already over. He's not who I thought he was. We’ve already separated once for almost a week. It was over before this. This isn't your fault. It's mine alone for choosing someone that wasn’t YOU._

_I’ve been thinking about divorce since the honeymoon. That's right. That soon. Because I knew somehow, deep down, I knew I was wrong._

He growled as he bumped the bottom again and had to wait to be repositioned back at the top.

_This is ridiculous. Please, let me come talk to you instead. It would be easier. Tap me again if I can come over. If not, push the inset button on my arm near the 'elbow.' It will send it back to me._

One tap later found him leaping from the bed while yanking his sleep pants back up. Screw finding his shirt or cleaning himself up. Let him see how he had affected him.

Grinning like a fool and full of hope, he sprinted down the long hallway and knocked on the door.

It partially slid open, and he saw one reddened violet eye and a scar. He had been crying. “Are you really? Do you really?”

“Like it never even happened. Poof. He's getting an eviction notice, too.” He leaned on the doorframe. “Quiznak, Keith, we’re both disasters.”

Keith snorted. “Big ones.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. I’m just as much to blame. I could have said something, too."

“May I come in?”

“Sure.”

Stepping into the room, he discovered Keith was still shirtless with only a pair of damp boxers on.

“First things first because I need to get this out of my system so I can focus.”

“What?”

His arm shot off the bed, knocking Keith forward into him until they were chest to chest.

“This.” He dipped his head and covered a stunned set of lips with his own.

A few minutes later, the wolf nosed in between them, making them laugh. They each scratched an ear as he lolled his tongue happily with his eyes closed.

"Good boy."

"Does he have a name yet?"

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are food for the soul. ^_^
> 
> I'm slightly stuck on "Dear Shiro,." I haven't forgotten about it.


End file.
